Disease and Destruction
by VikingOccupationalHazard
Summary: A horrible disease has taken hold of a majority of humanity, what use to be a thriving society is now crumbling down around those are struggling to survive. Only a few scattered groups of kids have survived, but just how long can they hold out with the hoards of the ever growing population of the undead along with the lack of fresh food? KaRe, Boris/Tala, Tyson/Hilary and more!


Have you ever read a book where the lead takes on a strong opponent and it seems hopeless until the hero's finally had enough and digs down deep within himself in order to pull out what's left of his strength to win the day in the end?

This, well, this is _not_ that kind of story.

This a story that tells of people who do nothing but just survive, there are constant struggles within and without the group. It's a horrible, twisted tale that was spun so the people had to writhe and twist their way through turmoil and muck only to fall into a deeper hole then before.

Fighting every day to survive and always looking over their shoulder to make sure nothing was following them. This isn't exactly for the faint of heart, so if you've got a weak constitution turn around. Now, for those that are still reading, prepare for the worst ride of your life.

10-15-1

His feet his hard on the pavement as the cold rain fell from above, he just wanted to go out and get some food for the rest of his friends, that's all, and the coast had been clear at first but he didn't notice the hoard until he'd turned the corner and run right into them.

A crash of thunder resounds in the air as a quick flash of lightening chases the shadows away but gives way to the nightmares that tale him so closely right now.

He's got to lose them, he can't risk leading them to the team, though he's not too keen on being dinner either. Dodging into an alley, the short green haired youth uses his years of training to leap up onto a trash can lid before using that momentum to launch himself from one side of the wall to the other until he made it to the top.

Snarling and growling is heard below, and he dared not peek over, he needs to use this chance to head back to the hide out. Clutching the package of food to his chest, Joseph picked up the pace, keeping to the roofs so as not to get caught again, until he spotted a familiar building.

"Home sweet home."

Checking his surroundings, Joseph made sure nothing was nearby watching before slinking inside like a shadow beneath the cracks. Sealing the window and blocking it once more, the teenager deftly leaps from the rafters to the steps below.

"Man, it's really coming down out there."

"Joseph, it's about time! What took you?"

Mariam leaps from a top some crates she'd been crouch on until she was sure it was her little brother. Worry traced over her features, but her tone is as mocking as ever. Joseph figures it's to keep some sense of normalcy in a world that is slowly turning to a war zone.

"Oh, you know. Lack of good food, rain oh and hey, let's not forget the occasional hoard of flesh eating zombies out there. But if you think you can do a better job, next time we need more supplies _you_ can go get it."

"As long as you brought food that's not expired, I can't tell you how many bad apples I've bitten into."

Grabbing a small loaf of bread, Joseph removes his hood and leaps up onto a lower stack of crates. Listening to the small rumble of thunder and the gently creaks of the building as the wind tugged and pushed at it.

Taking a small bite, the young man looks back over at his sister, normally she'd tear into the food, not caring if the others got some because there'd always be more but now…with supplies running low right now she needed to be mindful.

Though with all that was going on, she isn't sure she could eat even _if_ they had good food to eat.

"We're going to have to try and move on from here. It's obvious there's no one left alive in this city."

Whipping their head around, they watch as their infamous leader materialized from the darkness. Serious turquoise eyes stare hard at both of them before shifting his gaze up toward one of the blocked windows.

"If we stay here to long chances are we won't survive anyway, did you find anything on your last scouting mission Joseph?"

Shaking his head, the green eyed teen looked down at the half consumed bread in his palm.

"Nope, it's the same as it's been for the two weeks we've been here. If someone were alive or surviving one of use should have run into them by now…but…"

Finishing his sentence by shaking his head, "Nada. Not even a scrap of evidence that anyone was even here…well…y'know aside from all the wandering dead bodies."

Furrowing his brows, Ozuma closes his eyes, they'd travelled to three cities so far in ten months and so far, not a single being like them.

They can't _all_ be dead…they just can't be.

Biting his lower lip, Ozuma's eyes snap open before leaping up onto the top crates, "I'll be the first watch. Everyone else try and get some sleep, we'll move out at dawn. I _know_ we're not the only ones to survive this. Others have survived and we _will_ find them. "

"Sure thing Ozuma…but don't you need sleep too? When was the last time you slept?

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

Mariam gave him a skeptical look, but knew better than to argue with him as Ozuma is a stubborn man and not one to accept that he, too, needs sleep. Shaking her head, the emerald eyes became hidden behind pale eye lids before they reappeared to look back at her brother.

"Okay, but we're here when you need us, okay?"

He stayed silent before leaping up to where Joseph came in, slowly moving toward the outside, despite the rain, and sat just before the edge and out of the sight of the soft groans that rose above the thunder and sound of rain.

Pulling his hood further over his head, a scowl set firmly on his lips as he puts his headset on, listening to the static for a few moments, quickly flipping through the stations to try and listen for a voice, any kind of voice.

"My name is Ozuma, leader of the team Shields. We are alive and ask for any humans that are alive and received this message to respond with your coordinates. We are currently at 35°41′37.82″N 139°42′12.78″E, just near the harbor. Again, my name is Ozuma and we are out here, looking for signs of human life."

"I don't know how many times you've sent the message out Ozuma, it's clear that no one else is alive but us. "

"That or they just don't have a radio handy. There are people still alive out there, and it's our mission to find them."

Scowling lightly at the shorter male before he decided to sit down next to him, a small crack of thunder shakes the building beneath them and rain starts to pour down a bit harder on their heads, but Ozuma just keeps staring out into the distance.

"We have to find them. Our chances of survival as a species depends on finding more people, otherwise we're done for."

"And what if there is, what if they're overseas? How _exactly_ would you plan on getting to them? It's not like we can take a rowboat and none of the other boats have gas…and even if there's a remote chance there is, how do we get to it? These undead freaks are everywhere."

"They aren't as active during the day time, I know we said they don't need sleep, but Joseph and I noticed the level of activity and deduced that moving in the day is easier than the night. There are still some around, but nothing we can't handle."

Shifting his gaze to look back at the other, Ozuma's brows furrow deeply as pellets of rain hit his face to drip down his chin.

"You sound like you've already given up Dunga, that's not like you."

"Well we've been searching for living people for near a year now with no luck. All we find are empty cities, rotten food and less hope then when we first came. I just get sick of it, why is it no one else was able to find a safe house like we were?"

"No one saw it coming, so none of them could put up a defense quick enough to fight off the disease. Cities were hit harder the rural areas due the fact that people were more spread out. I was…hoping…they would have lasted but apparently that wasn't true. Hopefully they just moved to a bunker and don't get reception."

"You're the boss, so if you want to keep looking we will, but I think everyone is out there."

He gestures to the slew of moans and groans that came from the streets below, they had died down over the last thirty minutes but not enough to risk peeking down to look at them. Rising most of them would bring the rest and they would start to overwhelm the building.

"No, there's more than just us. I know it, Tyson and his crew _are_ out there. He's too stubborn to let something like this take him over."

Though from lack of communication from anyone living, it's ridiculous to keep thinking that anyone would still be alive by just sheer will.

"Oh yeah, that loud mouth kid who owns Dragoon. You really think he'd make it?"

"I know it."

X

10-17-1

His back hit the wall, holding his breath and squeezing his eyes shut as he hears the soft shuffle of someone who's forgotten how to walk. A groaning sound fills the air and sends shivers up and down his spine, they just needed some food and he was volunteered to get them.

Why he had to pick a grocery store that held three zombies is just a testament to his continued good luck.

'Come on Granger get a hold of yourself. Your team is counting on you. You can do this!'

Gently slapping his cheeks, Tyson steels himself and slowly turns his head to peek around the corner. The undead is just standing there, almost as if trying to decide on whether to get the green apples or the red ones. Wishing it would move, Tyson shifts his eyes around to see if he could find a way to distract it long enough for him to make it to the exit.

Seeing a rock, the dark haired teen picks it up and strategically throws it as far down the hallway as he can before pressing himself against the wall once more.

An unearthly snarl leaves its lips before rushed shuffles is head going far down the hallway, waiting until he couldn't hear the echo, Tyson took this chance to take his back and run as fast as his legs could carry him.

Heart beating quickly in his chest as he clears the doors and makes it outside….and right into trouble.

Somehow between him getting into the store and coming out, some zombie leader must've arranged for a meeting across from this very store…because he ran right into them.

He just stares at them, as they stare back.

Afraid to even move, Tyson keeps his eyes on them before a snarl is head and they decide to come at him.

"Oh man you've got to be kidding me!"

Spinning on his heels, Tyson starts to book it as fast as his feet can carry him, especially since he knows they disease ridden, flesh eating, brain dead zombies are right on his heels. Nothing spurns you faster than _that_ thought process running through your mind.

"I've gotta lose them, gotta get out of their line of sight somehow! But how?!"

Frantically searching for an opening, a crevice he could fit into. An alley he could dive into and disappear before they catch up to him, but everything seemed to have something blocking it.

"God! Figures, I actually _need_ an opening and I don't have one! Come on, give me some kind of break already!"

Tyson skids around a corner, clutching the bag tightly to his chest, and pushes his feet faster as the hoard sounds like their getting closer and closer to him.

' _If anyone wants to come save me then they are more than welcome! Hell I'll take any kind of help!'_

A gunshot is heard from behind him and briefly pulls his attention away, only to have a hand grab his ankle and cause him to fall face first onto the hard ground.

Stars blast in front of his vision before he spins around and aims a kick at the creatures' face, not really ready to be dinner for the undead yet.

"Not today ugly!"

He starts repeatedly kicking its face until the fierce grip let go and allowed him to scramble away. Another gunshot rang out, clearer than a bell before it started feeling like the temperature dropped several degrees.

Shuddering slightly, Tyson grabs a nearby crowbar and swings it at the undead being and snaps its jaw off. Stomach churning, it takes everything within him to keep from emptying his stomach right then and there but the urgency to escape and live is more prudent then falling into his gag reflex.

Standing up to his feet, Tyson holds the crowbar like a bat and is ready to take on his pursuers but he sees some of them have been frozen solid.

"Wha-?"

"I should have known it'd be you Tyson. Only you can gain a whole mob of people in a span of five seconds by just being on the street."

"I know that voice…"

Looking up, Tyson sees a familiar group of faces that he is more than happy to see.

"Tala! Bryan, Spencer, Ian! Oh man am I happy to see you guys."

He lowers his crowbar and moves to stand next to them, "I had to say I wasn't exactly expecting to run into you."

"Like wise, but we need to continue this conversation somewhere else. There's a lot zombies out there and we're almost out of ammo. Is there more of you?"

"Well…yeah. We've got a base not far from here…do you?"

"Of course we do, though it's not in the city. More or less on the outskirts, less chance to run into any of these things."

"Right, let's make a pit stop at my bunker and we can re-group there before heading to yours."

"Lead the way."


End file.
